


Bad Intentions — a Charmed’s story

by strippedink



Category: Dark-Hunter Series - Sherrilyn Kenyon, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 12:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3850525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strippedink/pseuds/strippedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonnie just wanted to have a girls' night out... But evil never rests.<br/>The smirk of a true psychopath settles on Sin's lips. "You're going to kill Elena Gilbert."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

 

> _“Laugh it up, asshole. But she who laughs last laughs longest, and I intend to belly roll tonight.”_
> 
>  

* * *

“Give in to all these reckless dark desires, beautiful.”

A seductive male voice with a rich accent delivers whispered words right into her ear. The goosebumps spreading over exposed flesh are the painfully visible proof that his presence alone, along with his husky voice, renders her incapable of forming any coherent thoughts. He disregards each and every reaction he manages to trigger in her. Perhaps it’s all part of his bad boy vibe, which includes rudeness most likely, but Bonnie would go out on a limb and even say it’s nothing but a defensive mechanism. Well-defined arms snake about the lean waist, crushing willing bodies together. An uneven breath find its way to freedom as the stirring of a fire within occurs upon the roaming of a male hand across her back, only finding its resting point at the lower back. Mint green eyes clash with the fathomless darkness of his eyes, robbing her of breath completely the moment he charms his way inside solid barriers, which normally keeps anyone from entering the domain where she is its sole ruler. With a simple but extremely boyish 200 kilowatt smile. The inability to conjure up any rational train of thought should have been her first clue indicating strong evidence that something isn’t quite right. Yet Bonnie disregards that fact. After all it’s not every day Bonnie Bennett finds herself in the arms of an exotic Sumerian God.

Sinful lips, certainly capable of delivering nothing but trouble, sweeten the mocha hued skin of her neck’s column by the dissemination of short but highly arousing kisses. All while her dazed mind analyzes the prior events that brought her into this not-so-awful predicament.

It had been a rather quiet afternoon after a stressful morning of classes at Whitmore College. With blood-boiling fury flowing through every blood vessel, a grunt of frustration escaped Bonnie on the way back to her parked vehicle after a hurried departure across campus. She just couldn’t believe that Professor and his nerve to assign such a heavy load of homework. Returning back to Mystic Falls had been faster than usual but that might have had something to do with the unusual speed she subjected the car to.

Already inside her old bedroom, the Bennett witch paced back and forth with heavy strides while clarity and tranquility were sought by the troubled mind. During the unsuccessful exercise to subdue raging thoughts, especially after the gut-wrenching experience she suffered on the accidental journey to the cemetery, Caroline rudely interrupted her restless meditation with an unexpected call suggesting that both of them should go out and indulge on a night just for them girls. Quickly engaging on a mental brawl between logic and freedom of choice, after exploring every aspects concerning the consequences of a rash decision like this one – including all pros and cons – Bonnie found herself responding to the blonde vampire with enthusiastic “ _yes!_ ”.

“One drama-free night won’t hurt anyone.” She foolishly thought without actually evaluating all possibilities.

Two excruciatingly long hours later, with a semi-convincing smile glued to her lips, Bonnie studied the reflection of an incredibly beautiful amazon princess, exotic in every sense, with interest. It awarded her with a painfully recognizable forced smile. Attired in a breathtaking crimson, strapless gown, the makeup was low-key as to not draw attention to herself. She gave her reflection a nod of approval as slightly fidgeting fingers kept playing with the only jewelry she chose to wear – a beautiful tear-shaped pearl.

Just a couple of minutes prior to their rendezvous, Caroline called to warn Bonnie about her already expected delay. They had previously decided to travel together. Caroline's compelling skills must be out of this world because she was capable of talking Bonnie into going to the club, just half an hour outside town all by herself. The bubbly vampire only had to present her best friend with the single argument that she would meet her there later. “Are you a chicken, Bon?”, she inquired with evident mischief.

Caroline is well aware of the fact that Bonnie despises being called a coward. She is a witch skilled to slay a dragon if necessary. Plus, this wouldn’t be as difficult as it seemed, her mind offered her as encouragement.

And so exactly forty seven minutes later she found herself stepping into what felt like an alternative reality. Everything was about bright lights and loud music. The combination of expanding pain and unsettling worry faded the moment she set foot in the realm where dreadful sentiments don’t belong. A more certain smile forced its way onto her lips.

With the removal of the weight of the world from hunched shoulders, hips began to sway involuntarily, in accordance with the sick but addictive rhythm of the song playing. The beat urged both arms skyward to follow the synchronized movements of a not-so-uncoordinated body. With tranquility written across the witch's face, she sashayed with additional confidence toward the bar where she ordered a long island iced tea.

“Where the hell is Caroline? It’s been almost an hour and still nothing.” A nagging voice kept fueling Bonnie's frustration and uneasiness for her friend's lack of communication. She had been playing thoughtlessly with the straw from her cocktail when her undivided attention found a new target to admire and ogle.

Drawn as if by a supernatural string, her breath falters and lips part in need of a quick entrance of oxygen into her system when the most mysterious man my eyes ever laid on enters the dim lit establishment. Displaying absolutely no care in the world, the 6’7 statue of raw beauty and tawny flesh approached Bonnie's frozen figure with a crooked smirk that told the world he was its sole owner. He leaned the well-built upper body over the counter, right beside her, and she couldn’t have behaved more uncomfortable with the display of easiness from the self-proclaimed Casanova.

The second sign that something is awfully wrong with the creature fondling the petite sorceress intimately like a long lost lover surfaces when he murmurs the set of words exuding temptation and sin. “Give in to all these reckless dark desires, beautiful.”

At first, it sounded nothing more than a pickup line that appealed to innermost fantasies and desires. But as the minutes pass by, Bonnie finds herself unable to deny any verbal requests from the mystery man. He slithers a calloused hand over the length of her upper leg when he finds the high side split of my gown. Flaunting yet another smirk, he lifts her thigh while coaxing her to hook her leg around his waist before sweeping Bonnie off her feet completely. He decides to offer an introduction of himself. “I’m Sin Nanna and I’m a kitsune.” Upon the contemplation of Bonnie's initial reaction, mostly one of utter shock and dread now that clarity illuminated her, his lips quirk in amusement and twisted satisfaction. “That’s right, Bonnie Bennett, I know _everything_ that is to know about you. And now that you know exactly who... oh I’m sorry, exactly what is successfully manipulating you, let me warn you not to try anything funny.”

The mist, which has been clouding her mind, dissolves just enough for Bonnie to provide Sin with a proper response. “My friends will come looking for me; you won’t be able to keep me as your puppet for long.”

Mocking laughter spills from his lips as his sole reaction to her threat. Apparently, the Japanese trickster’s knowledge of her life goes beyond than what the witch had foreseen. Her knowledge of his supernatural species is rather rudimentary. Other than the fact that kitsunes have the ability to assume human form as well as wield magic powers to their advantage, she couldn’t say she is familiar with the Japanese foxes also known as tricksters for their willingness to raise chaos wherever they go.

The back of Sin’s free hand caresses her now cold cheek. The blood drained away due to the sheer fear consuming her. A look of disappointment adorns his chiseled features as the trickster recognizes the stench of terror. His arms quickly envelop the slightly trembling figure like a lover’s embrace and, just in seconds, Bonnie finds herself relaxing visibly to Sin’s allure - kitsunes’ natural ability to maintain their prey calm and relaxed.

Her throat goes dry the moment bewitched eyes capture the sight of rippling muscles that follow the movements of Sin’s arms. And her mind remains disoriented but Bonnie's willingness to break free from his spell proves to be a tougher task than he had initially predicted.

“You’re one of the difficult ones, aren’t you? It’s alright, nothing I can’t handle, beautiful.” He whispers after consuming the rest of the long island iced tea. Rough fingers close around a fistful of hair before forcing her head back abruptly, his permanent smirk gone. “Listen to this, witch. There is nothing you can do to stop me and now that you’ve upset me, I’m going to have to do something about it.” His sigh reveals nothing but exasperation. “You’re going to watch someone you care about die right in front of you. Look at what you’ve done now. And, oh, did I forget to mention you’ll be the one killing her?” The smirk of a true psychopath settles on Sin’s lips. “You’re going to **kill** Elena Gilbert.”

 

_To be continued…_


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two ancient warriors join the party... and spice things up.

 

> _“Sometimes it takes balls to be a woman.”_

* * *

 

 _Darkness_. Surrounded by utter darkness is how Bonnie stirs from a state of unconsciousness. Aching muscles protest against the prolonged position her body has been subjected to. A distressing hiss escapes through parted lips at the minimum movement of limbs. Motionless, she remains as she extends her senses to access her current location but the perpetual lack of illumination inhibits the pair of eyes to capture any source of light that would enable to distinguish objects, forms or people.

As trembling hands slither over the nearby floor, soil smudges Bonnie's palms which fuels her curiosity and growing despair instantaneously. And the defying silence is so loud, almost deafening, with the straining of my sense of hearing. Isolated from the residential area, probably to ensure that eventual attempts of escape and screaming would be futile, is her first speculation regarding her whereabouts. The events from the previous night flash before her eyes. The memory of that singular encounter with a smooth kitsune, by the name of Sin, and the words exchanged between the witch and the manipulative creature - including the imminent threat on Elena’s life - become the reason behind the panic and dread unfurling from within.

For the time being, Bonnie's magic seems to rest under her wing yet the knowledge that it is only temporary cripples her inwardly. Her stomach twists in knots. A low hum of pain begins to nag at her from the region of her forehead and in just a few minutes the throbbing ache disseminates through her head, hindering the witch's competence to concentrate on any rational thought. As she presses a hand against her temple in an attempt to alleviate the pounding headache, Bonnie becomes aware of two facts. The first one being the few strands of hair that cling to the skin of the left temple and cheek, damp in texture. The faint metallic smell lingering in the air indicates the presence of blood. And the recollection from the last conscious moments of the previous night returns.

Sin had just foreshadowed the terminus of her best friend’s life, followed by an eerie smirk that was quick to settle on his lips, when an object, most likely an empty bottle, collided against the side of her head. As darkness closed in on Bonnie, her vision dimming with each heartbeat, cruel lips quirked with sick amusement. And soon she was knocked out cold, defenseless in his uncaring embrace.

Involuntarily, ice-cold hands begin to tremble when the cold seeps into the bones and a light clinking disturbs the thundering silence. The heavy weight that sits on her wrists, resembling metallic shackles, restrains the upper limbs’ movements. And that is the second piece of information she gathered. Afraid to draw attention by committing a breakout attempt, her every muscle freezes to guarantee complete inactivity of the body. But Bonnie's fate had already been sealed. The pair of eyes, no longer accustomed to light, reacts viciously to the sudden and unexpected passage of bright, blinding sunlight as the creaking iron door is opened. Time stands still when the creature she has been dreading to confront reappears from behind the massive door – Sin, the bewitching kitsune who managed to override Bonnie's free will.

Still squinting her eyes until adaptation to the light is achieved, a rough hand curls around the witch's arm before hauling her body upwards until the handcuffs restricting her freedom pull at her wrists. A hollow chuckle follows. “Mmm. Good afternoon, beautiful.” The rich accent fills the room and the coldness laced to his words compel a shiver out of Bonnie. “Sleep well, dear? I would apologize for the rudeness, but you didn’t exactly leave me with any other alternative to your behavior.” Mortiferous lips glue themselves to the mocha skinned neck, fueling the command Sin already holds over her.

Victim of her own body, a primal moan forces Bonnie's lips apart, betraying every intention to remain unaffected by his endless torture.

“Good girl.” He mumbles with satisfaction, running the tip of nose along the column of her neck.

“Wh-where am I?” The first try at sounding fearless is a complete and utter failure. Shying away from the kitsune’s touch as his hand splays across her cheek, a faint whimper escapes and the hold on her arm tightens to the point where it has her crying out as pain disseminates.

“Shh. You must preserve your energy, witch. You’ll be needing it soon. Also, your cries go unheard in this forsaken place. The living conveniently forget about the dead.” Upon the perceiving of an expression of terror plastered on her face, his lips are quick to twist into a knowing smirk. “That’s right, darling. You’ve been trapped in the Salvatore’s mausoleum all along. After all, I had to take drastic measures to keep you quiet. I couldn’t have any of those you call friends finding you before I unleash you.”

Cautious to bypass the kitsune’s attention by cloaking the stirring of magic, Bonnie invokes the power within in one last attempt to break free from the clutches of this monster’s manipulation. The little cracks of the veil enveloped around her mind broaden, convincing her that she is making progress. Yet all the strain made is rendered unsuccessful the moment a hollow chuckle spills from Sin’s mouth.

Again, he clamps a hand around her upper arm with vigor whilst strengthening authority on her free will and ability to perform magic. “You’ve been a naughty girl, Bonita.” With a face of a god pressed against Bonnie's temple, his lips tease the shell of her ear as he spits words drenched with venom and spite. “Fun’s over, witch. And it’s time pop the champagne. Listen carefully, you are going to request a rendezvous with your best friend and then you will kill her. No questions asked.” A satisfied chuckle rumbles through him when terrified eyes, reminding him of a deer in headlights, look up in a silent plea for clemency. To boost his enjoyment, dispassionate eyes fall upon her, engaging Bonnie's glassy gaze before emitting, to her mind, a surge of power so great that forces her lips to part and free a cry of utter agony. Trembling hands apply pressure on both sides of her head to alleviate the pain.

As a result, Bonnie's knees give way, colliding against the rough ground. “Pl-please stop.” Silence follows instantly. The turmoil halts abruptly, and she is left panting with warm tears streaming down her face, praying for salvation for them all.

The creature who has yet to demonstrate any traces of mercy claps his hands together, demanding promptness from her. “I don’t have all day, Bon Bon. Off you go! I’ve always enjoyed a good fight between two females, and I can’t wait to see this one. A witch against a vampire. Remarkable.”

With a mind that is no longer hers, a complete transformation of demeanor occurs to the naked eye. Compassion oozes from every pore, common sense vanishes into thin air and rational thought based on morality evaporates. As Bonnie rises into a standing position, every movement slow and predatory, steady hands shake the dust off last night’s dress before accepting her phone back from Sin. A synergic gaze is shared between the two creatures, and her actions become a mirror of the kitsune’s due to the mental connection established.

Confident about the forced allegiance, Sin allows the witch's exit from the mausoleum.

Elena was quick to respond to the vague text message sent just minutes ago by her friend, Bonnie. ' _Meet me at the cemetery by the woods._ ' Simple and succinct.

Since Elena has agreed to get together so promptly, Bonnie is now on her way toward the most somber area of the deserted place where lost souls wander. The heavy smell of autumn lingering perpetually in the air, ink dark locks of hair float backwards with the light breeze, icy and unforgiving. Not one living soul can be spotted here, making it the perfect site in town to carry out the mission instilled in her. Shy rays of sunlight peek from behind the large leaves of the trees and the green fades to a plethora of shades of warm colors such as red, yellow and orange. The rustling of dried leaves beneath shoes captures Bonnie's attention, and lifting her chin, she finally manages to distinguish the familiar figure walking in her direction – **Elena Gilbert**.

A slow, methodical smirk tugs at the witch's lips. Elena has no idea of what’s coming. Beneath the protection of one of the many Mediterranean cypresses, Bonnie stands immobile, waiting mutely for her friend's proximity. The vampire's known gentle smile was already embed in her lips when Bonnie's hand lifts in the air, the palm revealed at her. Magic exudes in every direction, building an invisible wall that impedes the vampire's passage. A hollow chuckle escapes her upon the viewing of the dissipation of Elena’s smile when the young vampire realizes she can’t break through the barrier. “Hello, Elena.”

The void of emotion in Bonnie's voice alerts Elena about her friend's predicament. Elena's eyes widen with apprehension and dread and her spine straightens in the same heartbeat. “Bon… Wh-what’s wrong? Where were you last night? Caroline said…” She pauses to collect her jumbled thoughts. “Caroline said you never showed up, last night.”

Words spilled in a rush expose the disappointment, now written across the witch's features. Her head shakes slowly. “No, Elena. I showed up at the club, but Caroline was late as usual. And then, Sin showed up.” When confusion paints itself across the vampire’s face, a sigh saturated with irritation spills from Bonnie's lips. “Sin’s a kitsune, creatures of chaos. Powerful and magical, too.”

Elena takes a few moments to absorb every piece of information. “What did he do to you, Bonnie?” She demands as realization hits her. Sin is the one responsible for Bonnie's “out of character” behavior.

“He brought me here last night, against my will. I spent the night unconscious and shackled, and all because he wanted to ensure…” Words fail Bonnie when she achieves to penetrate Sin’s dominion after continuous attempts.

“What, B? Ensure what? Tell me.” A gentle voice encourages Bonnie to finish the sentence that will condemn Elena before she takes a hesitant step forward.

“Ensure that I would kill you, Elena.”

The newbie vampire freezes on the spot with petrifying words. “But you’re not going to do it, right?” An intimidated pair of dark eyes examines her witch friend's expression and stance, visibly frightened for the imminent mayhem. “Right, Bon?” She presses Bonnie for a vocal response, most likely already aware of her failure to release herself from Sin’s proverbial claws. And so Elena falls into a state of denial, shaking her head repeatedly while mumbling “ _no!_ ” over and over again. “This can’t be happening! Not to you. Bonnie…” Elena’s crystalline tears fail to grasp even a tiny thread of Bonnie's humanity; her hands holding her head and hair disheveled as she walks in circles. Probably pleading for clarity so that she can plan her best friend's salvation.

“No, Elena.” Bonnie's free hand extends upwards in a cobra-like move, fast and unpredictable, effortlessly flinging the she-vampire against one of the many gravestones sitting on the ground. The cry of distress coming from Elena fuels the white hot fury scorching Bonnie within, manipulated by the trickster as whispers recount just how badly she has been mistreated by the brunette and the rest of them. Blind to reason and unable to unchain herself from the darkest side dwelling inside Bonnie, she demolishes the invisible magic wall separating the two of them. To do that she pulls her arm back to release the energy that was keeping it up. Then she advances towards a slightly bewildered Elena like a predator going in for the kill. As lips unfurl to form a hollow smirk, Bonnie's upper body bends earthward to allow the proximity between their faces. While administering the vampire with a blinding aneurysm that has Elena gripping the sides of her head desperately, a chuckle of great amusement escapes from the little witch before sustaining Elena's misery with yet another hex.

“Bo-Bonnie, pl-plea-se. Stop.” The brunette has yet to retaliate and as if reading her childhood friend's mind, she adds. “I wo-won’t fight y-ou. I c-can’t.”

Mocking laughter rings in Elena's ears. “Love is weakness, ‘Lena.” Concentrating on the power flowing through her, the same way blood does, a few whispered words of an ancient language depart from gelid lips which result in a writhing Elena, praying for mercy as inside every blood vessel, her blood boils. With sick fascination, mint green eyes peruse the scene before them – the constant screaming, pleading and crying coming from the brunette as her hands roam all over her body in despair, searching for the ending of agony.

The flapping of wings interrupts Bonnie's ongoing infliction of pain before the blow that will bring death upon her best friend. Rotating her head to the side, another malicious grin settles on her lips as she recognizes the winged animal, with feathers as dark as night, perched on a tombstone. Damon. “You know, _Damon_ , using foolish tricks to spy on me is so last year. I’m just saying. Why don’t you cease being a  _fucking_ coward and show your pretty face?” The derision dripping from her words painfully distinguishable as she awaits for the materialization of the old vampire’s pale figure, familiarly attired in black clothing. The finishing touch his infamous black leather jacket. “You’re rather shy today, Damon. I can’t have you hiding from me now, can I?” In a matter of seconds, an explosion of feathers makes its slow descent to the ground after a swift snapping of fingers with a slip of tainted magic veiling the surrounding area. Her sole intention to encourage Damon’s departure from the shadows.

Only several heartbeats later, he is capable of parting with the security provided by the darkness existent in the heart of the woods. “You see, I knew getting rid of your new toy would be persuasion enough to yank you from there. What’s the matter, Damon? You’re not here to save your precious Elena?” The pair of baby blues glances earthward, admiring in silence the spectacle that resulted from the crow’s sudden death. A hint of alarm and awe flicker in his eyes before pining Bonnie with an accusatory glare, all amusement gone. “That judgmental expression does not suit you, leech. Let’s not allow ourselves to get hypocritical, shall we?” She can tell the nonchalance of her conduct leaves him quite uncomfortable as he feels he’s treading through dangerous waters.

Once again, Damon’s eyes wander between the remnants of his familiar and Elena’s writhing body before lifting his gaze to her, Bonnie. “Bonnie, come on. This isn’t you, I know you can break through whatever that thing did to you. You’re the only one who could ever do it. You alone have fought against every wicked creature lured into this hellish town. _Fuck!_ Bonnie, fight it with everything you have.”

A slow, methodic smirk yet lacking emotion stretches Bonnie's lips. “Are you done? Can’t you see I’m **busy** here? Shame on you for interrupting me. You’re free to stop around later and see if I care.”

The inability of Damon’s words to break through Sin’s manipulation feeds his growing frustration which leads to impulsiveness from his part. As she pivots on her heels, returning to the task at hand, the stirring of wind sends out a red alert through her supernatural senses.

Simultaneously forcing Elena’s weakened figure back to the soiled ground and turning around to face the vampire rushing in her direction, Bonnie extends her arm forward with her fingers separating from each other as a beam of the darkest magic radiates. When the magic strikes Damon, he’s no longer capable of advancing toward her. “You’ve become a nuisance just now. Sweet dreams.” With a flick of a wrist, faster than a cobra’s attack, Damon’s neck complies to the silent command, following the movement of her hand to the point where a loud snapping sound resounds. His lifeless body descends toward the ground, seduced by gravity. Satisfied with the results obtained, Bonnie finally sashays to a barely conscious Elena. “Much better, don’t you think? He couldn’t save your ass even if he wanted. Just between us girls, all his bravado is only a façade. Now, where was I?”

“Right. I was just finishing you off.” Mischievous amusement takes up residence on exotic features as fingers wrap themselves around the slender neck of Elena Gilbert. “You know how it will end? First, I will break every single bone of your body until you beg for death and then I will rip your heart from your chest.” As each word sinks, life returns to the undead creature that Elena has turned into. An extra dose of dread stains virtuous features. “ _Incendia_.” The ring of bright red, yellow and orange flames rises from the ground, separating them from the rest of the world.

The doppelgänger convulses as if she’s gone mad the moment the first bones fracture, her bloodcurdling cries filling the brisk air. “B-b-bon…” With what seems to be a permanent smirk etched to Bonnie's lips, she nourishes the magic flowing from her with an additional dosage of energy and concentration until Elena’s incapacitated from forming coherent thought due to continuous cracking of bones. Her lips move but no sound escapes. As Bonnie leans closer, faint whispers tickle the shell of her ear. “Do. It.”

After a soft pat on top of the doppelgänger’s head, the witch assumes a kneeling position before the broken vampire as her palm finds a convenient location over Elena's dead heart. “Goodbye, Elena. It _wasn’t_ a pleasure.” Untamed energy rises from within, leaving a tingling sensation right beneath her skin before guiding every ounce of dark power into the brunette's long dead heart. The organ commences to swell due to the force of magic, every fiber straining to the point of rupture. And Elena cries out in response. The literal disintegration of her heart gradually robs Elena of life, the light in those melting chocolate eyes fading away. . .

Something isn’t right. At first, Bonnie can’t quite put her finger on the reasons behind her sudden discomfort and even deep fear. There is a mist clouding her mind and a voice instructing her. With a shake of head to clear her thoughts, dark curls bouncing with the movement of her head, illumination graces Bonnie with its greatest gift – knowledge – upon the observation of Elena’s imminent demise. Bonnie's heart bleeds as she looks down at her best friend, her gaze blurred with unshed tears. At last, she conquers reign over her free will, knocking down every brick from Sin’s thick wall of twisted corruption after discovering its weak spot.

“My God. What have I done?!” Breath falters as trembling hands lift to cover her mouth before a sob manages to escape. “Elena…?” Without wasting another second, unsteady hands land upon Elena’s unmoving chest. “Come on. Please… I just have to heal your broken heart. _Literally_.” In any other time, she would probably be laughing aloud. Just not right now. Right now, Elena – her childhood best friend – requires her help urgently. If not for the ancient magic circulating inside her, she wouldn’t be able to cede part of her life force into Elena and she would certainly meet with Death this time. There would be no more deluding Death. The rushed accumulation of raw power produces a rise of the temperature in the area surrounding them, awakening the slumbering vampire, Damon, who groans before admiring the scene around him.

The volatile energy drifting from her conceives nothing but utter chaos. The lamps from the lampposts, scattered around the cemetery, explode with a strident bam and the wind hisses ferociously as small animals from the nearby woods find shelter for protection. A storm is coming. When the first raindrops fall, the motionless figure lying thoughtlessly before Bonnie shifts her position with a cry of pain that is barely audible. “Oh, thank God. Elena! You’re okay now.” Choking laughter slips and bright tears cascade down the sides of her face, the initial testimony of Bonnie's relief. A mantra of apologies follows. “I’m sorry. Elena, I didn’t… I’m sorry.” Soon after, Damon joins them, confusion and shock permanently marring chiseled features.

And the storm never arrives.

Both vampires grow distracted with the idea of a “happy ending” to this chapter but the witch's journey is not yet complete. The next step: _annihilating the kitsune_ , evil personified, she would say. Picking up a small rock with a sharp edge, she swiftly pierces the skin of her palm with it, just until blood oozes from the self-inflicted wound. Not a word leaves her lips as she presses the ensanguined hand against her best friend’s parted lips to ensure her rapid recovery. “Take her back home, Damon. And make sure she has enough blood in her system at all times. For now, my blood is sufficient because of its magical properties but it won’t be long until she will crave another feeding.” While wrapping a ripped cloth around the injured hand, the pair of vibrant green eyes pierce Damon’s methane blue gaze. Her index finger pointing at his chest. “Take care of her, Damon. I… I’ll stop by later.”

Before Bonnie takes the first step to abandon the scene, the dark vampire’s voice stops her from continuing. “Where are you going, Bon? You’re going after this creature alone, aren’t you? Are you out of your goddamn mind?! I’ll leave Elena in Caroline’s care and I’ll help you kill that fucker.”

Eyelids shut with an uneven breath departing; her head shaking from one side to the other in refusal. “No! You go with Elena, you hear me? Plus, you would fall victim to his mind imprisonment. Damon, I’m serious. Don’t fuck this up for me and stay out of it. I’m not going alone anyway.” White hot fury boils within with the mental picture of Sin’s broken body lying on the ground. “I’m going to contact a few friends of mine from New Orleans.”

He seems to be satisfied with the idea of being accompanied during this confrontation, his entire body relaxing visibly. “Alright, Bonnie. I won’t get in the middle, this is your brawl. I get it, trust me. Good luck.” Once Elena is in his arms, bridal style, he exits the cemetery in a blur of motion. Bonnie, on the other hand, fishes the cellphone from her purse again, only this time the call is to a receiver from the euphoric city of New Orleans. At the first ring, a rumbling voice with a thick accent teases her ear and for a brief fraction of time, she's taken to a past memory where Bonnie was introduced to a whole new world of supernatural. One that includes dark hunters, daimons and vengeful gods.

“If it isn’t my favorite witch calling… What can I do for you, Bonnie Bennett?”

With a quick shake of head, Bonnie pushes the memory away with a labored sigh escaping. “I need your help. Yours and Acheron’s. You guys have no souls and I’m dealing with a creature that controls the soul and free will.” She knew she could count on the warriors’ generosity and promptitude to help and protect. They just never disappoint.

“I’ll call Acheron. We’ll be there soon, B. Don’t worry, this bastard isn’t going to see another sunrise.”

 

Roughly 25 minutes later with the last rays of sunlight disappearing behind centuries old trees, two gigantic figures materialize right before her eyes. At first, Bonnie couldn’t be certain of who the creatures were. After all, they were still enveloped by a bright, blinding light. Kyrian’s familiar voice is the first to disrupt the tension, finally convincing her these two are, indeed, Kyrian of Thrace (Hunter) and Acheron Parthenopaeus of Atlantis. Both dark hunters.

A dark hunter is essentially an ancient warrior who protects mankind from daimons. Artemis (Greek goddess of the hunt and chastity) wanted to restore the cosmic equilibrium and so she sought Acheron/Ash (the last of the Atlantean gods, the Final Fate) to help, and 11 millenia ago, he became the first Dark Hunter and she later created an army of them. Dark hunters were created from individuals that lived a most terrible life and suffered a horrendous death. Upon their death, Artemis barters their soul in exchange for a single act of vengeance 24 hours within their rebirth. After this, she keeps their souls and they are to forever live in servitude to her until someone worthy passes one of her tests and wins a dark hunter’s soul back for them. She commissions them to protect mankind by hunting down and killing the daimons and all other forces that threaten mankind. Dark hunters have a double bow and arrow tattoo on their delectable bodies where Artemis touched them to immortalize them. They have excellent senses and are fanged as well. They also suffer blood-thirst but are forbidden to ever drink from a human.

“You could have warned me, Ash. This teleportation thing or whatever you call it, it gives me headaches.”

Acheron’s even commanding voice yet still rather friendly follows the first. “Stop being a pussy, Commander.”

With a brief shake of head, amusement lights up Bonnie's features despite the issue at hands. The two supernaturals are a breath of fresh air, neither one fails at conjuring up a smile from her. “Guys, come on. Kyrian, stop being a baby. And Acheron, stop being a major asshole 24/7.” The scolding tone of her voice pleases both dark hunters and laughing, they advance toward her motionless figure, each one closing massive arms around Bonnie in a crushing embrace until she is left choking for breath.

Kyrian is the first one to speak up. “We all miss you back in New Orleans, Bon. Talon sends his love. Well, actually he said something else but you know how he is... with his sexual innuendos. Seriously though, you gotta go back and visit us some time. Even that smart-mouthed punk misses you.”

And suddenly, the feeling of belonging consumes Bonnie. Never in a million years she had imagined to grow so dependent on the group of people she has met in New Orleans after being kidnapped by Kyrian to help them with another rogue sorceress. Witches are still humans after all, and killing her was out of the question for them. The dark hunters are often described by Ash as the great barbarian horde that roams the night. Yet she could never imagine any of them any differently. Before she knew it, Bonnie had grown fond of this _fucked up_ family.

Acheron Parthenopaeus’ unmistakable presence dominates Bonnie's full attention the moment the second dark hunter shut his mouth. Like a stealthy predator, 6’8’’of height, with the face of a young boy yet wise beyond measure and a body that makes every woman swoon with burning desire, Acheron hides his swirling silver eyes behind the protection of a pair of sunglasses. Despite his mighty powers, this broken soul was robbed of self-confidence at a tender age. His eerie eyes alone tell the story of a man who has been a victim of barbaric cruelty, always seeking kindness yet never finding it. The story of a creature that has walked through this world hand in hand with solitude.

Attired in nothing but dark clothing, biker boots and a leather jacket as the cherry on top, the leader of the dark hunters gifts the last Bennett witch with the rare sight of his genuine smile. “How’s my girl? Tell us why are we here. Kyrian said you sounded serious on the phone.”

Breath falters before swallowing the lump lodged in her throat, an expression of dread twisting Bonnie's exotic features. “I wish I could tell you everything was alright, Ash. This kitsune showed up…”

Instantaneously, both creatures inhale sharply, recognizing the supernatural species.

“Shit. You were smart to call us, Bon. Kitsunes are nasty little bitches that spread chaos all around, destroying every place they decide to take as their new playground. I’m actually surprised you didn’t try to go after him by yourself.” Acheron finishes with a single eyebrow raised as the pair of swirling silver eyes concentrates on her.

“Ac-actually I _kind of_ did. But not as you think! He trapped me in his spell before I even knew what he was. He-he almost succeeded in having me kill my best friend! I couldn’t-I couldn’t control my own body. It was horrifying, I’m just glad my stubbornness prevailed in the end which allowed me to break through his barriers.”

Kyrian’s hand is quick to find a resting place over her shoulder, his only intention to comfort Bonnie. “It’s okay, Bons. You couldn’t do much even with your powers. Witches are just as vulnerable. Only soulless creatures have a shot at kicking their ass, and don’t worry because he won’t be breathing once we are done with him.”

A breath of relief carries almost all her worries away upon the processing of Kyrian’s words. Could it be that this nightmare is about to end?

As much as Bonnie yearns for the freedom of this weight that is hunching her shoulders, the nagging possibility of Kyrian’s confident speech turning out to be a harbinger of doom for them all is still very much present. Thinking back on Elena’s condition, her fingers immediately close into small fists, and Bonnie's entire body trembles with white hot rage that blinds her momentarily.

Acheron is the first one to detect a change in the atmosphere as the clouds above darken visibly in accordance to Bonnie's equally somber mood. “Bon…” When she doesn’t react immediately to his voice, he continues before landing large hands atop her shoulders. “Bonnie! That anger will do you **no** good. Calm down, babe. Kyrian will tell you how _ugly_ I become when I’m fully enraged.” He finishes with a humorous chuckle, and Kyrian’s rumbling laughter follows.

Despite the fury running deep in her veins, Bonnie finds herself breaking the spell. Her mind conjured up immediately the image of a dark blue skinned Acheron with horns - his true form. The hint of a smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

“There it is. Come on, Bon. Give us that smile.” The thick accent of the Atlantean teases her ears. Only the broad smile would never be more than just a dream, not when an almost unbreathable aura emerges from the bizarre mist that has surrounded the area nearby – Sin.

In less than a heartbeat, the two dark hunters find their places, one on each side of her. Bonnie Bennett in a dark hunters’ sandwich? In any other situation, she would be taunting both about her predicament yet humor has long fled this forsaken place. Dread coils in the pit of her stomach, even with the security provided by Kyrian and Ash. The moment that follows represents the calm before the storm, on one side there’s Sin and the three of them on the other.

A rare event comes to pass when determined yet still frightened eyes dare to examine Sin’s expression. Behind several masks piled up, Bonnie manages to glimpse, just for a second, apprehension, even fear in those fathomless eyes. His bravado seems to be intact but after dealing with Damon Salvatore and his continuous failed attempts to be the monster he pretends to be for so many years, she can effortlessly tell the kitsune’s all mighty attitude is close to cracking. Without margin for doubt, the mere presence of two dark hunters is enough to have Sin running for the hills. But it seems that his pride has him rooted to the ground.

“Well, well. Look at that, apparently the little witch has friends in higher places. Not that it matters, Bon Bon. This town is now mine and I will have hell clawing its way back to this place. I should probably congratulate you on freeing yourself from my influence, it’s a bitch to get rid of it. I knew you would do everything in your power to avert Elena’s certain death. I also know how much that left you defenseless. Struggling against that kind of power alone nearly consumed all your energy, didn’t it?”

The simple mention of her weakness has her knees buckling as if each one of his words applied pressure on Bonnie. After sharing a concerned gaze, both ancient warriors support her weight by snaking an arm around her waist. “Shut up.”

The kitsune laughs, mockingly.

“I. SAID. SHUT. UP.” Taking Ash and Kyrian by surprise, Bonnie advances toward the creature of chaos and immorality with genuine rage written across her features. A deadly intent on every step she takes. Thrusting her hand in the air and her jaw clamped shut, a rush of energy abandons Bonnie's veins in direction of the creature she intends on exterminating tonight.

The impact is brutal, reflecting magic the second it collides with the kitsune. The flow of returning energy sends Bonnie backwards but she manages to find her footing again. Voluntarily intoxicating herself with corrupting magic, the darkest magic a witch could possibly have access to in the most somber recesses of the mind, a cry of the extreme fury finds its way past her mouth as Bonnie refuses to stop the offensive on the irredeemable creature.

Again and again, as if she has gone mad, flashes of white and dark magic are unleashed against Sin.

That is until her breath falters, and all energy is now gone. Bonnie's knees give out when she least expects and soon her body is allowing gravity to haul her earthward. Before sinking completely a pair of arms interrupt her descent and imminent collision against the ground. Barely holding onto consciousness, trembling fingers grip the collar of Kyrian’s leather jacket, “I’m s-s-sor-ry.”

The ancient warrior does not hesitate to close the distance, drawing Bonnie's weakened figure to his chest in one of the most gentle and protective manners ever seen or experienced. Who would have thought this ruthless creature, cold to the world around him, could possibly hold this much tenderness within?

“Don’t worry, he just signed his death sentence. Acheron is going after him now.” He whispers softly before Ash’s voice overrides everything else.

“You are a dead man, filth.”

Because the natural process of a human’s body to recover and restore all energies is to shut down completely, Bonnie can’t help but close heavy eyelids as the commotion occurring nearby progresses. She has seen Acheron fight before and that man has some serious fighting skills, and mad powers. There is very little he can’t do. Looking into the future of someone close to him being one of his inabilities which leaves him completely in dark. And for that reason alone, he simply doesn’t allow people into his life in fear of them becoming important to him and failing to see an incoming tragedy.

Each dark hunter is gifted with certain skills when they are reborn into their immortal life, and telepathy is one of Kyrian’s. Every thought crossing Bonnie's mind is monitored by him, leading him to offer words of encouragement when her thoughts become somber with terror. “Acheron is almost done with him.” He says. “Look, he’s conjuring his staff now.”

Gathering the shreds of energy left, it takes her a few heartbeats before she manages to force her eyes open again.

The scene before Bonnie is grotesque.

Both supernaturals walk in circles, taunting one another like beasts do in the wilderness before advancing and striking one another like the skilled warriors they are. Acheron being the one with more elegance and strategy in his blows. The tempo of their deadly dance picks up as the leader of the dark hunters materializes his staff.

Time stands still and everything slows down.

In one fluid motion, Ash separates the two-piece staff, revealing a sharp blade, and plunges it into Sin’s abdomen without hesitation. Everything remains frozen. Only the kitsune falls on his knees with blood trickling down from the mortal wound and from the corner of his mouth. The expression on Acheron’s face is one of ruthlessness, determination and lack of mercy. With a single snap of Acheron's fingers, the creature on his knees with life vanishing from his eyes, evaporates into thin air as if he never even existed.

Blinking repeatedly, Bonnie glances between Acheron and the spot no longer occupied by Sin.

He chuckles when those mysterious eyes notice her confusion. “He went to a place where he can never harm anyone else, Bon. I don't know if you ever heard of Tartarus...”

Sure, she has. It’s the one place where all wicked things are sent to when they meet death, a place of eternal torture. Ancient Greece's version of Hell. Bonnie simply nods her head, still unable to believe this nightmare is finally over.

“Come on, Sabrina. We’ll take you home and tuck you in before we go. But, but, you have to promise us that you will visit soon. Deal?”

The smile that had vanished earlier, upon the appearance of Sin, returns and grows. Her head nodding affirmatively, “Promise.”

_Fin._


End file.
